


See You in Another Universe

by someidiothasice



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Suits (TV)
Genre: Batman fusion, Gen, Mike has a secret identity, hey you asked for it, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someidiothasice/pseuds/someidiothasice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Harvey,” he asks, checking to make sure his door is locked securely, “tell me. What do you know about DC comics?”</p><p>Or The One Where Mike is really Tim Drake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You in Another Universe

The first time it pings on Mike that Something is Wrong (again) is when he’s at the grocery store.

It’s three am and he’s in the middle of the cereal aisle, staring blearily at the empty space between the Golden Grahams and the Frosted Flakes where the Apple Jacks usually are, when the hair on the back of his neck rises. His head turns so fast to the left in (what he thought was) a long-forgotten move that it nearly gives him whiplash.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a man move casually around the display of potato chips at the end of the aisle.

But it’s three am, and Harvey and he had just finished wrapping up their last case. Mike finally has a day off where he can just sleep until noon, so he tamps down the momentary urge he has to follow the guy and grabs a box of Fruit Loops.

By the time he’s at the checkout it’s out of his mind completely.

* * *

The second time he gets a hint of that Something is Wrong feeling he’s out to lunch with a client.

In the middle of a sentence Mike’s hackles all raise and he whips his head to the side. Across the street there’s a guy with black hair buying a hot dog. Mike ignores the people passing by and stares at the back of the stranger for a moment. The guy takes his dog and a bottle of soda before moving on.

He turns back around to see the client staring at him with a slight smirk, eyebrow raised. Mike flushes and continues his spiel.

In twelve minutes he gets her to sign, and it’s not until he’s unlocking his bike that he remembers the man was there at all. He glances around as he puts his helmet on, subtly checking the surrounding areas for him, and just thanks whatever unknown deity was watching over him that Harvey had let him handle this client alone and therefore wasn’t around to witness his brief moment of ineptitude.

But during his bike ride to Pearson Hardman he thinks back a few days ago, when the moment first hit him at the grocery store, and this time he doesn’t forget.

* * *

Once is chance, twice is coincidence. The third time is a pattern.

Unfortunately for Mike, the third time is when he’s out to dinner with Harvey.

Harvey says they’re celebrating being some of the best lawyers this city has ever seen, but Mike knows that Harvey’s date cancelled on him at the last minute and now he’s pissed. Not because she cancelled, but because she cancelled to bail her husband out of jail. And nothing pisses Harvey off more than infidelity.

So when Mike looks up at the waiter and chokes on his water Harvey immediately gives him shit about it.

Mike’s in the middle of coughing when the waiter-- _Dick, oh fuck, Dick’s_ here, Mike thinks rapidly-- leans forward and slaps him on the back roughly a few times. Harvey stops ranting at Mike to instead glare at Dick.

“He’s fine, jesus, you’re only going to make it worse,” Harvey grumbles as he picks up his menu. He slaps Mike’s hand with the corner of it. “Get ahold of yourself and order something to drink already.”

Mike looks up at Dick who is giving him the fakest smile he’s ever seen. Mike smiles weakly back at him.

“Um. An iced tea, please.”

“Iced t-- Rookie, you disappointment me so much sometimes,” Harvey chimes in. Dick’s gaze remains on Mike for a second longer than comfortable before he turns to Harvey. Harvey’s eyes narrow. “We’ll have the Lafite Rothschild Pauillac.”

Dick doesn’t bat an eye, just takes the wine list and tucks it under an arm.

“And are you gentlemen ready to order?”

Mike, still in a state of shock over Dick being there, just looks up at him blankly. Harvey rolls his eyes at his behavior and shoves the menus at Dick.

“We’re going to start off with the bisque, the roasted bacon, and the scallops.” Dick nods, taking everything Harvey is saying in as he glances back over at Mike.

“To share?” Mike grabs his water and chugs it so he doesn’t have to say anything. Harvey gives him an odd look, but nods at Dick.

“Why the hell not. I’ll have the sixteen ounce strip, medium, with a side of the black truffle creamed spinach,” he orders. Harvey looks at Mike and Dick swivels his gaze to Mike and Mike--

“Um. I, uh... I’ll. I want.”

\-- is seriously losing his cool. He stops talking and clears his throat. Harvey is giving Mike the hairy eyeball, about fifteen seconds away from snapping at Mike right in front of Dick, who is just staring right into Mike’s eyes and jesus, he needs to pull it together right now.

Mike looks up at his brother and hands him the menu.

“I’ll have the same. And the goose fat potatoes. Oh, and I still want the iced tea.” 

Harvey snorts and rolls his eyes, but Dick just takes the menu blandly.

“Cooked the same?” Dick asks, like he doesn’t know that Mike likes his steaks rare enough to still moo at him. Mike narrows his eyes.

“Rare,” he says curtly. Dick nods his head and turns on his heel. Mike watches him walk all the way to the kitchen and when he turns back to Harvey he finds the man staring at him with a peculiar look.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Harvey asks. Honestly it’s more of an order, but he should’ve known better than to word it the way he did. Mike absolutely doesn’t smirk at him.

“Do I want to? No. So let’s respect my privacy for two whole hours, have some dinner, and then I can go home and sleep until Monday.”

Harvey laughs at him. “See, now that’s funny because you think you’re not working tomorrow. Did you forget about your field trip? You’re going to Edison in the morning. You’ve gotta get Chapman to agree to the deposition.” Mike closes his eyes and groans. “I don’t want to hear you complain about it. You’re getting paid. Do we have to go over what counts as billable hours, again?”

Mike opens his mouth to reply but Harvey cuts him off.

“Don’t answer that. That was rhetorical,” Harvey says, annoyed. Mike bites the inside of his cheek, the urge to mouth off strong. Harvey is already in a bad mood, and Mike’s skittishness with Dick suddenly being _right there_ didn’t do anything but raise his suspicion.

Harvey continues.

“Don’t change the subject, either. I want to know what that was about.”

“Do I really have to tell you every minute detail of my life? What if that was just an ex-boyfriend?”

Harvey doesn’t bat an eye.

“ _Is_ it an ex-boyfriend?”

Mike doesn’t squirm. “It could be.”

“If that’s your way of coming out of the closet I would say I was very happy for you, but I don’t care.” Harvey gives Mike a ‘look.’ “Just tell me this. Is it trouble?”

Mike looks back at the door that Dick went through. He turns back to see Harvey staring at him, trusting him, and Mike really hopes that Dick doesn’t make him a liar when he shakes his head.

“No. No trouble at all.”

* * *

When Mike gets home he waits for all of twenty minutes before he’s up on the roof. It feels weird, different, and not just because he climbed up the stairs rather than the fire escape. No, it’s because here, in this place, that kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Only in the movies.

Mike can’t help the snort. He hates those movies with the burning passion of a thousand dying suns, but he can’t help himself from rushing to see them when they come out.

(For three hours he sits in a dark theater and ignores the ball of hopeless despair in favor of making snide remarks to Trevor and getting shushed at.)

He walks to the low wall at the edge of the rooftop and waits for all of five minutes before he hears a footstep very clearly directly behind him.

“There was a time you would’ve caught me twenty feet away. You’re slipping, Tim.”

Mike doesn’t turn around, just leans forward and places his hands on the concrete.

“That’s not my name. Not anymore.”

There’s a beat of silence before Dick sighs softly.

“You’ve grown up. How long has it been for you?”

“Fourteen years.”

Dick inhales sharply and Mike glowers into the night.

“I’ve been here for four. Teen. _Years._ ” Mike whirls around and pokes at Dick’s chest. “You have no right to be here.”

“Tim,” Dick says helplessly, reaching out. Mike hops backwards until he’s in a familiar crouch on top of the wall. He’s rusty, but it’s still just like riding a bike. Some things your body just doesn’t forget. “It’s only been two for us. We’ve been--”

“I don’t _care_ what you’ve _been,_ ” Mike spits. He shifts and feels the wind whip up the back of his shirt. “I’ve got a new life now.”

“You can come home,” Dick says. His hand stays out. He’s wearing the same outfit he was in the restaurant, minus the jacket, and peeking out from the unbuttoned collar is a line of black going across his throat. Mike’s eyes land on it and he aches inside.

“No,” he says. Mike glances behind him, then back at Dick. “I can’t.”

Then he flips off the edge of the roof and swings down the fire escape quickly. He’s definitely rusty, because by the time he gets to the street his shoulders are screaming at him and he’s winded. But he made it in one piece. 

Mike looks up.

Dick is standing on the ledge Mike vacated moments before, staring down at him. He doesn’t chase Mike as he walks away, but Mike knows it’s only a matter of time.

* * *

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting in a full night’s sleep, princess?” Harvey says when he opens the door. He’s already changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he moves aside when Mike shoves his way in. He doesn’t seem surprised to see Mike at his door.

“I need a favor.”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘my ex-boyfriend is stalking me, I need to crash at your place’ the answer is no,” Harvey says immediately as he shuts the door. Mike gives him a flat look that Harvey returns easily. “You brought it up first.”

“Don’t be cute. I actually need your help, this time.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. With what?”

“I need you to do something for me, and then not ask any questions about it.”

Harvey stares at Mike for a minute. Then he reaches forward and opens the door.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

Mike takes a few steps forward and grabs the door, shutting it and glaring at Harvey.

“This is important. Give me half an hour of your time, please,” Mike pleads. Harvey looks like he’s itching to bodily toss Mike out of his condo, so he tosses out a hail Mary. “If you still want to know, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

“This better be worth it,” Harvey grumbles, placing a hand on Mike’s back and shoving him towards the couch. Mike stumbles, but regains his footing quickly. He hesitates for just a second, glancing sidelong at the bar, and Harvey rolls his eyes. “Am I gonna need scotch for this?”

“Save it for tomorrow.” Harvey glances at Mike sharply as he moves to sit on the couch. Mike shrugs and sits.

“If this is another shady drug deal gone bad--” Harvey starts, but stops when Mike laughs.

“Just shut up and listen, Harvey.”

He does. Mike starts with a few pointed questions and Harvey gives him short, succinct answers. Mike can tell that Harvey is dying to know where Mike’s going with all of this, but he just points Mike in the right direction. When Mike stands to leave, because he is going to get this done _now,_ Harvey walks to the door and opens it for him.

Mike thanks him as he walks out, but stops when Harvey reaches forward and touches his elbow.

“Tomorrow,” Harvey reminds, like Mike could forget, “you’re going to answer all of my questions.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but Mike finds himself nodding anyway.

“If you really want to know, then yes. I will.”

He leaves.

* * *

When he gets to Pearson Hardman it only takes him forty minutes total to draft everything, and only because he had to stop to call Harvey in the middle. Harvey had talked, in great lengt,h about what would happen to Mike if he screwed up the Chapman meeting, before answering his questions and abruptly hanging up on him.

He’s in the elevator, reaching out to press the button for the ground floor, when his hand hovers for a moment. He recalls the memory of swinging down the fire escape and he glances at the button for rooftop access.

But that would just be ridiculous. Where he is now, it would be a matter of minutes before he was spotted. And possibly _arrested._ Or thrown in the mental hospital. He didn’t even have any gear on him, it would be next to impossible, especially with his bag, but maybe he could--

He jabs the button for the ground floor harder than necessary.

* * *

The sun is just starting to rise.

Mike stands in the exact same place he was the night before, drinking coffee from a travel mug and staring out over the city.

It’s so much like home. There is bustle going on down below, even at this hour. The city that never sleeps. Mike snorts. They were a dime a dozen here. New york, Chicago, LA. They were all so much like home, but at the same time there will never be any place ever like it.

Gotham isn't real. Not in this universe. He knows. He's checked.

Mike pulls his jacket a little tighter against the early morning chill and his chest gives a pang at the thought of warm, black kevlar, heavy memory cloth...

Mike closes his eyes and knocks back the last of the coffee.

He takes the stairs down, this time.

* * *

Chapman is unresponsive at first, but ultimately Mike gets him to agree to do the deposition.

He spends the entire train ride back into the city wondering how in the hell he’s going to get Harvey to take him seriously.

It's easier than thinking of what he's about to do.

* * *

He’s at his apartment for all of five minutes, just long enough to text Harvey that he's done, Chapman's in, and he'll be over later with answers to all of Harvey's questions, when the knock comes.

Mike debates not answering for an agonizing minute before he mans up and opens the door.

Dick stands on the other side, hands in his pockets. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt today.

Mike stares at him.

“So I may have ambushed you last night,” Dick says sheepishly. Mike stands aside wordlessly and Dick comes in. Mike shuts the door behind him.

Dick turns, taking in his place with a sharp eye. Mike watches Dick look around his place.

Dick looks exactly the same, with the exception of a shiny pink scar poking out from the sleeve of his shirt. Mike can’t get over it.

Dick has only aged two years.

Tim has aged fourteen.

Mike shakes his head at the thought. Tim is gone. Hell, here Tim Drake never existed.

“How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Dick says, grinning wryly, “the witch who cast you here didn’t know what she was doing. We had to call in reinforcements.”

“What do you want?”

“We want you to come home, Tim,” Dick says. He looks at Mike, helpless. “We all do. We _need_ you to come home.”

“This is my home, Dick,” Mike says gently. He steps forward and places a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “It is now. I can’t leave.”

“You have commitments back home,” Dick starts, but Mike cuts him off.

“If it’s been years then I’m sure they’ve been taken care of.” Mike squeezes Dick’s shoulder. “I have commitments here, too.”

“You can’t tell me you’re happy here, doing this,” Dick hisses, gesturing all around them. Mike laughs humorlessly.

“You don’t think I’m happy that I’m not getting beat up, kidnapped, and shot at on a daily basis? Really?” Mike moves to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. He knocks half of it back in one go, then offers it to Dick. Dick shakes his head. “I don’t have to deal with any of that here. Do you get that? There are no psychotic villains who wish death upon me. I don’t have to deal with the kind of crazy that we lived with day in and day out back hom-- back in Gotham.”

“You know, back home you actually made a difference,” Dick tries again. Mike shakes his head.

“And I do here, too. Just... in a different way.” Mike walks to the couch, where his messenger bag is. He roots through it until he finds the folder that he put in there last night. “Look, Dick. The first few years were hard. I missed you guys every second of every day. But I like where my life is now. I've changed. I’m not going somewhere I’ll have to start all over again. Not again.”

He holds the folder out and Dick takes it. When he opens it and reads what's on the first page Dick looks up sharply.

“You can’t be serious. Tim.”

“Dick, please.” Mike takes a step closer and Dick gives him an imploring look. “Trust me. I’m a big boy. I can make my own decisions regarding my life. This is what I want. I’m Mike Ross, now.”

“What am I supposed to tell everyone?” Dick asks thickly. Mike swallows and pulls Dick into a hug. Dick takes a moment to respond before his arms are clutching at him.

“Tell them that you tried, but it was my choice,” Mike says quietly. He pulls back to see that Dick’s eyes are glassy. “And that I love you all. Still.”

“He’ll never forgive you,” Dick says. Mike nods.

“I know,” is all he says, before he lets go. On an impulse, he leans forward and brushes his lips across Dick’s lightly. Dick looks at him, startled. Mike just shrugs and grins. “I had to know.”

Dick laughs and rubs the back of his neck. Mike shakes his head at him fondly. Dick never did well with praise, or appreciation. Mike opens his mouth to say something else when his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket to see who it is. It’s Harvey. Of course it’s Harvey.

“I have to take this.” Mike looks up to see Dick grinning sadly at him. He holds out his hand and Mike takes it, shaking it slowly.

“Goodbye, Mike,” Dick says.

“See you in another universe, Dick.”

Mike watches his brother leave before he answers his phone.

“ _You really got Chapman to agree to everything we said?_ ”

“Of course. What do you take me for?”

“ _An idiot, most days,_ ” is Harvey’s immediate reply. Mike laughs sarcastically before Harvey continues. “ _Did you finish your other thing?_ ”

“Just now.”

“ _Good. Then get your ass over here. I’ve got a bottle of scotch with your name on it. It’s story time, rookie._ ”

Mike’s already shrugging his jacket back on.

“Breaking out the good stuff? Hope I don’t let you down.”

“ _You better not, kid._ ”

Mike’s got his feet back in his shoes and is halfway out the door when he decides to have a little fun.

“Hey, Harvey,” he asks, checking to make sure his door is locked securely, “tell me. What do you know about DC comics?”

**Author's Note:**

> So somebody asked for a "Mike is really Tim Drake" story at the suitsmeme. Me, being the nerd I am, immediately orgasmed all over myself and wrote this. Please forgive me.


End file.
